


Appreciation

by yoshizora



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 04:21:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13651323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshizora/pseuds/yoshizora
Summary: She's a living being.But Mòrag already knew that.





	Appreciation

**Author's Note:**

> some pointless canon timeline fluff

Their defeat had stung, admittedly. Though they could at least make some sort of flimsy excuse in knowing they had been withholding their true power, the Aegis and her companions had still escaped and all that was left was a flooded field and angry Gormotti farmers demanding to know what had happened to their water tower.

Not to mention the paperwork. Oh, Architect, the paperwork would take days. Not that Mòrag would have been returning to Mor Ardain anytime soon either way, since the ship is undergoing repairs and the dozens of soldiers that had been knocked about by the Aegis are still licking their wounds.

Those children had certainly left a mess in their wake.

And infuriatingly enough, Mòrag can’t stop thinking about what the Aegis’s Driver had said.

_She’s more than just the Aegis, or… some kind of weapon. She’s a living being!_

As if she didn’t already know that.

The pen in her hand cracks; she hadn’t even realized she’d been gripping it that tightly. She hisses under her breath as ink spills over her glove and quickly pushes papers out of the way.

“Lady Mòrag?” Brighid, sitting by the window with her journal in her lap, looks to her. The weather is pleasant today. It’s a shame for them to be holed up in the consulate like this.

“The Senate is already in the final stages of instating a new consul to replace Dughall,” Mòrag says, peeling off her ruined glove and ignoring Brighid’s questioning look at the broken pen. “It’s almost as if they’d expected something like this to happen.”

“They couldn’t have known.”

“No. They’d simply been waiting for an opportunity to strike and remove Dughall from his seat.”

Brighid just hums in thought and looks out the window. Neither of them particularly care what happens to Dughall. In the grand picture of things with the Aegis and the fallen water tower and the many concussions that Ardainian soldiers had suffered, Dughall’s fate is a mere afterthought. Mòrag’s only avoiding talking about the Aegis because she keeps _thinking_ about the Aegis, it’s too blatant.

She gently traces the cover of her journal with the tips of her fingers. “I believe I mentioned to you that I was once well-acquainted with the Aegis.”

“Did you find any information in your journal that would be helpful?” Mòrag pushes her chair back and turns to her, paperwork abandoned for now.

Brighid shakes her head. “Something had changed. There is no mention of anyone named Pyra in any of my past entries.”

“Hm…”

“But we’re in no rush to pursue them,” Brighid says, setting her journal aside to stand up. She stretches her arms above her head. “You said it yourself. As long as that boy is with her, they should pose no threat for now.”

Mòrag closes her eyes. She still hears the boy’s words over and over again, like a child throwing a tantrum— no, the resolve in his eyes was far too strong to be born from motivations of greed or whimsy. After years of serving the Empire and its military, Mòrag knows how to listen for the subtle off-tone of ulterior motives in someone’s words.

He genuinely cared for the Aegis; it was as simple as that. Mòrag supposes she should have attempted to explain her own position more thoroughly to quell the situation. Perhaps then, they wouldn’t have resorted to felling the water tower on her and Brighid.

The boy really thought Mòrag meant to take the Aegis’s power for herself.

She wonders if he had any assumptions about how she treats her own Blade.

“Brighid.”

“Yes, Lady Mòrag?”

“Am I fair to you?”

Brighid tilts her head. “Of course. I can think of no greater honor than serving you as your Blade.”

Mòrag stands up. She really isn’t sure where she’s going with this, but she’d rather not deal with the mountain of paperwork or her ruined glove right now. “Come here.”

“… Alright?” But Brighid obliges, crossing the room to approach her.

For a horridly long, silent moment, they only stare at each other. Mòrag lifts her hands and hovers them over Brighid’s arms with uncertainty like she wants to hold them, but doesn’t, but instead decides to remove her hat and place it on the desk behind her. She folds her hands behind her back.

“I…” She clears her throat. “I would like to remind you that we are equals.”

“Yes, I am aware.”

“I serve you as much as you serve me.”

Brighid is smiling. That’s a good sign. “If you’d like.”

 _You’re a living being, too,_ Mòrag doesn’t add, unsure about echoing those words from before.

It wasn’t as though she’d chain up the Aegis and toss her into a filthy cell if she actually did manage to capture her. She’s a living being with thoughts and feelings of her own. Like Brighid.

“Is that all, ma’am?”

No. It’s not enough. She knows she’d been rather aloof ever since her arrival in Torigoth, so engrossed in her task to capture the Aegis. Brighid surely understands how wrapped up she can get in her work, but it isn’t an excuse that satisfies Mòrag.

So, she takes a step forward and awkwardly puts her arms around Brighid, chin resting on her shoulder.

“… Er, may I ask what you’re doing, Lady Mòrag?”

“I’m hugging you.”

Brighid pats her on the back, amused and bemused. Unprompted displays of affection aren’t really Mòrag’s thing. Their encounter with the Aegis must have rattled her more than she thought.

“There’s no need to worry about how I feel. It’s alright.”

“No. Your feelings are always important to me. Please remember that.”

“I was talking about our failure in capturing the Aegis, but…”

“A-ah, yes, of course—“ Just as quickly as she initiated the awkward hug, Mòrag detaches herself (somewhat to Brighid’s disappointment). Her gaze flits down to the floor for a moment, and she grasps at the air by her sides, then takes Brighid’s wrist and lifts her hand.

Gently, Mòrag presses her lips to the back of her hand. Brighid’s eyebrows go up as her heart jumps.

“I want you to know how much I appreciate you, Brighid. My apologies for not expressing that nearly enough,” she softly says.

“Lady Mòrag…” Her flames are glowing considerably brighter.

“What do you say we take the day off to enjoy ourselves in town?”

Brighid glances at the paperwork on her desk. The fact that Mòrag is willing to shirk her duties to go gallivanting together in Torigoth is… unprecedented. The Gormotti civilians really do need their water tower fixed, besides so many other things that need to be sorted out.

But, after everything that’d happened, and with the spot on her hand where Mòrag had kissed her burning so brightly, Brighid can’t find any reason to refuse. She smiles. It’s so nice to finally be together again.

“I’d love to.”


End file.
